


Left Behind

by Marie_Iliea



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, Episode Related, Episode: s07e21 Lost City (1), Episode: s07e22 Lost City (2), Episode: s08e01 New Order (1), Episode: s08e02 New Order (2), Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Iliea/pseuds/Marie_Iliea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even through the haze of approaching death, he held on to our aborted conversation. He remembered, he looked at me, and he gave me what he knew I needed, and what I'm sure he needed too. The chance to say goodbye."<br/>(Missing scenes and gap-fill for the time between Lost City and New Order.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye

I won't tell them that his final words were for me, not them, that amacus is singular, not plural. Sam would be devastated, I think, knowing she wasn't included in what might have been his final words. Teal'c would be grave and solemn; I think the warrior in his soul didn't need words at the end.

Or maybe they'd understand.

I saw Teal'c's face as he left to check on Jack and whatever he was doing to the ring transporter, and again when he returned. Somehow I know that they had their goodbyes. For all the shallowness of his expressions, his emotions run so deep that they radiate into the people around him, making their presence known.

Come to think of it, I bet Sam said her goodbyes too – when she went to see what Jack was doing to the power crystals. When he was in that chair dying, she didn't want to let him go, but there was no denial or desperation in her voice, only sadness. She was prepared for that; it wasn't until she realized we had to leave him in that block of ice that she began to crack.

I hadn't gotten to say goodbye. I hadn't gotten a final talk, a chance to express things that I've never said and always should have. I express my love for people in my actions, the things I do for them, the things I do when I'm around them. Words are my tools, my weapons, and I can use them to appeal to any audience and invoke any emotion – but I can't even begin to touch my own. It is the only circumstance under which my words fail me.

I tried, when we were alone in the cargo hold. I told him that I would have done it; he told me he knew. And then Sam walked in. I was so frustrated that I wanted to slam my head into the boxes behind me, but then she asked how Jack was feeling, and I desperately wanted to know.

And he remembered.

Even through the haze of approaching death, even through the overwhelming knowledge taking over his mind, he held on to our aborted conversation. He remembered, he looked at me, and he gave me what he knew I needed, and what I'm sure he needed too.

That chance to say goodbye.


	2. Silence

"Aveo, amacus."

He knows I'm speaking to him, I can see it in those piercing blue eyes. The look of anguished resignation on his face reminds me of his voice when I ordered him to blow that damn Russian sub.

"Goodbye."

The stasis chamber takes over then, as if it knew I hadn't yet been ready. It had waited, even though I was so close to death.

I lied to Daniel, back at the repository, again in his lab. I knew Ancient, I could have translated for him if he'd taken the download.

I just couldn't bear that again.

How many times has it been now, that he's been lost or we thought him lost? There was that very first time on Abydos, when he sacrificed his life and by so doing gave mine back to me. Then the time with the Nox, though I was dead first, so maybe that doesn't count. Nem, the bastard, making us all believe we'd seen him die. That would've been so horrible, to die like that, to leave him behind! Apophis's ship – or was it Klorel's? – that was horrible. Was that how he felt when he had to blow the sub? The rockslide on Shyla's planet; damn, getting him out of that was almost worse than Netu for hellish experiences. He died as we were pulling him out – his injuries nearly made me, Black Ops extraordinaire, sick.

Let's see, that debacle with the addictive light – he nearly jumped off his balcony, and then flat-lined on the way to the 'gate later that same day! And Kelowna. God, oh God Kelowna. Watching him die like that, with our friendship so close to shattered – and then how he begged me, me, to let him go. I still feel like I killed him, even though he's back.

Okay, now I'm sure I know he felt about that whole sub thing.

So, that makes, what, seven or eight, depending on how you view the whole light-show affair. Damn kid's got one life left, maybe two if he's really lucky (come to think of it, he probably is,) and I'll be damned if I'm going to take it away from him.

Looks like I am damned, in fact.

They don't seem to realize that I'm aware of what's going on. I don't blame them, it's not like I'm terribly responsive. I see them out of the corners of my eyes as they try to figure out how to take me back with them. Prometheus must have landed nearby after coming back from space, judging by Hammond's face peering at me through this glass/ice/field stuff. I don't know if I've ever seen this combination of sadness, pain, resignation, and regret on that face. He doesn't touch it – me? – like Carter did, but his fingers twitch as though he wants to. He gives me a crisp salute and a nod, after a minute or two, and then leaves, his shoulders a little lower than before.

After a longer while, they leave. Everyone gathers around the chamber, and Hammond says a few words that I can't hear. They all salute – the soldiers, anyway – and then file out, back to the ship. My team stays behind for a moment, with Bra'tac, surprisingly. He says something, and then he and Teal'c do that graceful head-bow thing that they do. Their eyes would have brought tears to mine, if that were possible.

Carter's gotten a hold of herself, now, and when she speaks, I think I can read her lips. It's a simple sentence, and yet it gives me warmth where the chamber left only cold.

"We'll be back for you, Sir."

And then Daniel. Carter follows the two Jaffa, and Daniel is there. He speaks to me in English, and I try to follow his words with my eyes, but I can't make it out – he's Daniel, he says too much. But then he speaks in Ancient, and somehow I hear; I hear and understand.

"I will be back for you, Jack. I will figure this out. I promise. I know you think that you have, but you've never once left me behind. With Nem, with Apophis, when that stupid mirror sucked me off to another dimension where you couldn't find me, you've never left me behind. You were always there with me, in my mind and in my heart. I could hear you giving me advice, making sarcastic little remarks, driving me to keep going with that unbreakable will you somehow seemed to pour into me even when you weren't right at my side." His voice is thick with tears that finally break free to dampen his cheeks, and he scrubs at swollen red eyes. I haven't seen him this distraught since he was locked up in that padded room.

"If you can hear me, understand me, and God I hope you can, then remember that just as you've never left me, even though I'm not right here, I'm not leaving you. I'll figure this out; I'll be back as soon as I possibly can." He sobbed once, hiccupped quietly. "I love you, Jack. You're the best friend I've ever had, a big brother, and though you're the most opposite person in the world to me, somehow we have the same ideals and the same goals. You're as dear to me as my Sha're was, as she still is, and I will not leave you behind.

"It's not goodbye, Jack. I promise.

"See ya' later, Colonel O'Neill."

And then he's gone.

But he hasn't left me behind. I remember Ba'al, and how even though it could have cast him out of 'paradise', he was there with me, doing what he could, standing by my side, giving me strength, comfort, keeping me from being alone.

Something in my heart breaks, and oddly the broken space is filled with a sense of peace and security. Daniel's coming back; my friend, my family, my team, won't leave me behind.

But I'm still alone now, and I begin to panic, wondering if I'll be stuck aware of the almost-nothingness of my current existence.

I feel tired. I feel like I could hyperventilate, if I could breathe, but I also feel like I'm falling asleep. Somehow, the chamber knows that I'm alone, that I don't need to be aware anymore.

Dormata.

Sleep.

I'm awake, but I don't feel right. Like I don't have a body, so much as a frame with thousands of parts each at my command.

"Hello. Testing, testing. One, two. One, two, one, two, testing. Helloooo? Is this thing on?"

And there's that voice, the one that I love, that I know I'm safe with. The brother that, once again, came back for me.

"Jack?"


	3. Wait

I never wanted to leave you, Jack.

I should've found a way to stay there, in the outpost, because once they had me 'home', they wouldn't let me go back.

I can't bear to think of you alone, trapped in that thing, even though you don't know you're trapped. There are so many unknowns, so many things that could go wrong. What if the chamber doesn't stop things, but merely slows them down, and you die anyway, while we're not there? What if it fails, the power cuts out, it has some kind of timed 'off' function?

Or what if you're stuck, frozen there for years. I still remember being told everyone I knew was dead – remember, back when Hathor showed her ugly face again? It's a cliché, and I know how much you hate those, but I swear my heart stopped. I felt this horrible pain in my chest, radiating from that space right below and between my ribs – what do they call that, the xiphoid process, or something. Janet would know...God. Janet.

I quickly scribble out the last line, damning myself for writing all my journals in ink. I don't need to dump that on Jack, to remind him of that. When we get him back, we'll have had time to grieve; for him, it hasn't been so long. I sigh; I've started writing my notes to Jack, instead of that whatever-it-is part of myself to whom most people write in a journal. My eyes burn, and I scrub at them before continuing.

Anyway, it hurt, Jack. It hurt like nothing else, knowing that everyone had been dead for decades, that not only was everyone I ever knew gone, but also that they'd been gone so long there was nowhere for me to mourn them and no way to really say goodbye. For all the people whose lives had been lost, for Catherine and Ernest, Sam, Teal'c, General Hammond, Feretti, everyone...all I wanted was you. I wanted your strength, Jack. I wanted to break down and cry like I did in that storeroom so long ago, and have you hug me just like you did then. I have never truly felt alone when I've been with you, Jack, not since somewhere during that first trip to Abydos. I grieved for everyone else, yes, but it was the loss of you that truly left me alone.

If you were reading this, you'd be rolling your eyes and telling me to get on with it. Actually, you'd have been doing that quite a while ago. My point is that I don't want you to be in stasis for so long that when you get out, your whole world has changed – and certainly not so long that those who love you are gone.

You've already woken to a stranger's face telling you that you were the lone survivor. You don't need to go through that again. I won't let you.

Hang on, apparently Sam just got Weir to agree to a rescue mission. We're coming, Jack. We're coming.


	4. Drama

I left you behind, they're leaving me behind. I guess their reasons make sense – okay, I know they do – but somehow I feel betrayed, and anxious. I get this feeling that something's going to go wrong, Jack. I don't know why, but if there's one thing I've learned from you, it's that we don't leave our people behind. When we do, we start having 'bad days'. I should be with Sam and Teal'c.

I miss you. You must be getting sick of all this mushy stuff, but I miss you. Everything is too quiet, too solemn without you.   
I've got to go, which is probably good because I don't know how to continue that last thought, nor how to end it. Back later.

Remember the crazy naquadria-will-blow-up-Kelowna debacle? The representatives that drove you nuts? You'd love this even more. The Goa'uld are here to make a treaty, and the Asgard aren't involved this time, so yeah, I guess that 'bad day' did show up. Told you. Or maybe that's you told me.  
Your voice rings in my head, telling me to 'never trust a Goa'uld'. I don't, believe me. But they're after the weapon you set off down there, and part of me worries that they're going to end up going after it – and thus you. Weir's bluffing them, but I don't think they're buying it. They're going through the 'Gate soon...and I have no idea what's going to happen next.

Weir wants to revive you, for God's sake! Well, maybe not 'wants' per say, but she brought up the idea. It would kill you. Without the Asgard, you'll die. And likely for nothing, we don't even know if the chair has power anymore. It certainly didn't seem like it. I guess there's a shot, though, given that the stasis chamber still has power, maybe they come from the same source. But even if you could fire it off again...it's not worth the cost.  
Well, you'd probably think so. I don't. You've given enough, Jack. They're already keeping me from helping you; They better not try to keep me from saving your life.

Why am I not surprised? You wouldn't be either; they were going back because they were planning to 'test our defenses' themselves. Sending a ship of their own, and all that. If I may steal one of your phrases, Jack, don't we have enough to deal with already, for crying out loud?!  
I glance up at the knock on my door. What is it now? I don't even get a chance to write in my journals anymore, with so much going on.  
Oh...  
Hey, got to go again, but you'll like this: Ba'al just wiped out that ship they sent, and I'm going to channel you a bit and rub it in their snaky faces.


	5. Need

"Yeah, there's that."

Great. Thanks, Thor, jump in and pop the bubble. Doesn't seem to faze Jack though; he's apparently too interested in admiring himself. I know better, though. He's reassuring himself that he's really alive, still has a body, isn't trapped in Antarctica anymore.

Back to business. Jack already knows about the problem and is working on solving it, and suddenly I worry about him again. What if using the knowledge hastens his decline?

"Jack..." I'm about to hit him with the mushy, whether he likes it or not, but he stops me. His eyes say more than his words, though. I get the feeling he's not thanking me just for my concern...there's something more behind the look he gives me.

Things pick up after that – Jack's building something virtually, and suddenly Thor drops the bombshell I've been waiting for; Jack is dying again. I call him, but he doesn't respond as alarms blare in my ears, nearly drowned out by the panicked beating of my heart.

God no. Not now. Not after all this. Not with help so close.

Denial, rage, hurt, desperation; they race through me as Jack tells Thor to wait on reviving him. Wait? Is he crazy? Well, this is Jack we're talking about, but still. I'm thrilled that Thor revives him anyway, and I'm right there to help him as the pod opens and he tries to sit up.

Welcome back, Jack! His actions, his attitude, the words he uses, everything is completely and utterly Jack, and the world clicks into place again. The anxious drive in my soul that started when the ice formed over my best friend's face breaks apart and falls away. We even fall into our normal bickering routine – before Thor gets impatient.

And then the 'things picking up' turns into 'shit hitting the fan,' as everything gets tangled up together: Sam, replicators, fancy guns, more replicators, big fancy guns, and finally, alive and well, Sam.

 


	6. Awakening

Danny.

He sounds very concerned and a bit shocked, but then, I am too. Nothing's exactly right; where'd my body go?

Ah. Thor. This is starting to make sense...Daniel Jackson? Somehow I don't think I'm in his head, I'm managing to keep up with all the stuff filtering into my awareness, and I don't think Danny's mind is something I'd ever be fast enough to follow.

Oh. The ship's name is Daniel Jackson. D'oh, I should've figured that out, now that I'm pretty synced in with the technology. I wonder if all this Ancient stuff is helping me 'interface'? Probably. I fiddle with the lights a bit, trying to kill some time and distract everyone as I sort my way through this vast machine. Hologram, I can do that. Kinda like specifically-directed lights!

Yeah, Danny, I'm okay, but this really, really does feel strange. I can't feel my hologram self, really, it's just another surge of power amid all that's going on around me. Ship's log – thought that was just a Star Trek thing – catching up to speed. Oh Danny...Even though I had no doubt about your words when I was frozen, your words a bit ago proved you meant them. Always fighting for me. I thank you, focusing my...consciousness?...directly on seeing your eyes, hoping you can truly see mine. I won't be able to thank you for what you did for me in Antarctica, I won't remember once Thor revives me, and sadly I can't do it now, either.

I hope you see, hope you understand.

Right, right, right, the anti-bug machine. Been working on that, but since you think I'm distracted, I'll leave you be. Just have to put a few finishing touches on it...part of me feels suddenly gone. And another part. Dammit, I think I'm dying again. The 'interface' is failing.

Wait, just another second, Thor! I need to tell you how to use it–

I'm chilly, stiff, and it's oddly quiet. There's a grey ceiling above me...waaaay too high up to be the infirmary. Daniel. Teal'c. Thor? Oh. That explains a few things...OH. The head-sucker. I remember now, I did it again. Though I'm not entirely certain – okay, I'm clueless as to – what I did after getting head-sucked. This time feels different, too. Last time I had this stuff erased, I still knew I had legs and how to use them. Thankfully that sorted out in a moment or two.

Didn't build this, Daniel. Somehow I feel like I've missed this back-and-forth between us...it can't have been so long ago when we last sniped at each other, can it?

No rest for the weary, huh? Replicators, I know those go hand-in-hand with Thor sometimes, but I don't remember anything about them around the head-sucking event. What happened while I was Ancient-ified?

Too late to worry about that now. Gotta fix this. Kill the bugs, kill the bastard bug with a face, find Carter. Mission parameters set; I'll just have someone brief me later.


	7. Guilt

Jack, – oh boy, this really is a fully-fledged habit now, isn't it? – getting you back is one of the most profoundly good things I've experienced. Throughout this whole adventure my heart had been chipping away. I tried to harden it, to stave off the grief and mourning, but the moment you took your hat off and moved toward that repository I knew you were dying – maybe even dead already. Remember – well, no, I guess you don't – when we were sitting in the ship's cargo hold, and I told you I would have taken the download? Remember I was writing in my journal?

I should've done it. Jack and Teal'c know enough Latin and there are enough notes in my office for someone else to have translated. We don't even have to translate much; we're just letting Jack do what he's compelled to do. He's my best friend, he's dying slowly right in front of me, and there's nothing I can do. I've let this happen to him again, and the self-hatred is boiling within me. I need to talk to him, say things to him, apologize and make sure he knows just how important he is to me. Mentor, brother, very best friend...he's all that and more, and I'm not only letting him die, but I'm probably speeding up the process by trying to get the information we need from him. He says that finding the Lost City and saving Earth would make his death worth it, but all I can think about is what I'm losing. Billions of lives at stake, and I'm only concerned with what my life will be like after this is ended. I need to talk to him...

I tried to, but that's when Sam walked in. To me, to my mind and heart, you've been dying for quite a while. A terminal illness, and I started grieving, though I didn't want to admit it. Part of me gave up on you, and having you back is like seeing you rise from the dead. Is this how you felt all those times I came back to you? So relieved that it hurts, never wanting to be this happy again because you never want to be that sad ever again?

Everything's changing. You're going to be a General, you'll be 'the man' and you won't be out there watching my back and tempering my curiosity with your practicality. The likelihood of me losing you again is much lower now...but I still need to talk to you, and this time, I won't be stopped.


	8. Peace

I'm such a chicken.

Seriously.

I spend my life running around on other planets fighting off the greatest evils of the universe – and I can't tell my best friend that he's my best friend?!

Daniel stared into the mug of cold coffee he held between his hands, hanging the head he shook at himself in consternation.

Talk to him, Daniel, talk to him. That was the plan. Not leave a 'welcome home' care basket on his doorstep!

The archaeologist sighed deeply and gazed deeper into the brown depths of his untouched coffee – then jumped, sloshing the liquid over his hands and onto the rug as a knock sounded on his door.

It wasn't a loud knock, but it broke Daniel's self-recriminating silence with a shard of panic as Daniel realized who was probably at the culprit; Jack.

"Daniel," Jack said as the frazzled young man opened the door and peered out with glassless eyes.

"Jack. Um...come in?"

Jack walked into the house, gazing around at the walls absently, rocking his weight from his heels to his toes in a nervous gesture.

"You got beer?" He asked.

"Um, sure." Daniel retreated into the kitchen and grabbed Jack a beer from the six-pack he'd always kept handy for times like these. Hopefully it wasn't too far past the expiration date. Taking a deep breath, he gathered himself and took the bottle to his friend, handing it to Jack without really looking at him.

Jack took the beer, turning it around in his hands without moving to open it.

"Daniel."

"Jack."

Oof.

Daniel's breath caught in his chest as Jack's arms wrapped around him in a hug that beat out any he'd had in his life, even the one from the SpaceMonkey incident when Daniel had almost died. The beer bottle wobbled on the coffee table a few times and then fell onto its side, rolling away from where Jack had hastily set it.

"I love you too, Daniel," he whispered into the younger man's neck, his arms trembling as he squeezed his friend close. "I love you."

Stunned, Daniel belatedly returned the hug, foregoing the typical manly back-slapping to rub his friend's back just the littlest bit, his eyes stinging slightly.

"I heard you, you know," Jack continued, his voice rough and quiet. "When I was in the ice thing, before you left, I could hear you." Daniel froze in horror at the implication, but relaxed when Jack continued. "I wasn't awake the whole time, just until you left...it's like somehow the thing knew I wasn't ready to conk out yet. And I heard you speaking Ancient, and I could understand what you said...and I love you too.

"I could've fought it and stayed awake, but I knew you'd come back. You didn't have to tell me – I already knew – but hearing it made me even more sure. When I woke up, the first thing I heard was your voice, and I knew everything was okay."

"Jack..." Daniel pulled back, holding his friend by the shoulders, looking into brown eyes that glistened just a little more than his own. "I thought you didn't remember anything? You said you didn't remember anything this time either..."

"I didn't, not at first. Something must've been different this time, with Thor and the ship and all that...but I didn't remember it until I read your journal, Daniel. Then...Then I remembered."

"Yeah...about that..." Daniel looked down at his feet, dropping his hands from Jack's arms and wrapping them around his chest.

"I think I get it, though I wasn't expecting to come home and see a journal and my baseball cap sitting on the porch."

Daniel laughed ruefully.

"Yeah...well, the hat I grabbed as you stuck your head in the repository...and the journal...well, that rather explains itself, I would think."

"It does, Daniel. It does."

The two men stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other, brown eyes boring into blue eyes that drilled their own holes in return. Everything that could be said had been, and now...

"So...got a TV here, yet?"

"Yes, Jack."

"Hockey?"

"Sure."

"Oh, Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Beer's expired."

"Ja-ack..."

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-Posted FF.Net


End file.
